


and you, and you, adieu.

by 21stCenturyHero



Series: from me to you, 200 years in the future [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Blood and Injury, Choking, Doomed Timelines, M/M, The Black Rose - Freeform, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:33:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26603776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/21stCenturyHero/pseuds/21stCenturyHero
Summary: Their bodies and blades were broken and beyond mending, abandoned and cast aside to waste away as the Black Rose quickly enclosed them in order to strangle them and steal their breath, and the dawn broke as the first rays of sunlight shone brightly alongside the Calamity of Light — where all was still, and for a long moment, they could simply be.After all was said and done, he knew this couldn't end any other way.
Relationships: Zenos yae Galvus & Warrior of Light, Zenos yae Galvus/Warrior of Light
Series: from me to you, 200 years in the future [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1944658
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	and you, and you, adieu.

**Author's Note:**

> Reading the "The Hunt Begins" and "An Unpromised Tomorrow" short stories pretty much back to back changed me fundamentally as a human being. Please, enjoy!

It was no longer a dance.

If anything, the clamoring sound of steel meeting steel was nothing more but the swansong of two rabid, savage _beasts._

How long had it been since they found themselves locked in that standstill, waltzing away what little time they had left before that ballet of fools came to a close? How many hours — nay, days, years, centuries — had it been ever since their fates became intertwined like that, defined by the heat of battle and sworn to the sword, with only one possible end in sight? And yet — and yet! — wasn’t it _foolish_ how this battle was in vain, for there was no life left to live, no fight left to fight, no victory to be found in their opponent’s downfall, and all came down to the ticking seconds on the clock.

Tonight, they would both fall —it was only a question of _how quickly_ — but even Zenos knew they were friends once, in another life.

— so was it always doomed to be this way?

Maybe if he never took that crystal to his chest, things would have been different.

Or maybe it was perhaps something more quintessential, something _intrinsic_ to their being — maybe it was the condition of their birth, forever separated by the Wall that completely dominated the horizon of his homeland — or maybe it was simply the sadism of the gods, playing their tragedies and odes with the fickle life of mortals, who were all but abandoned by the Mother Crystal.

Maybe it was simply meant to be.

They no longer cared about the morrow, abandoning all hope for another morning; there, they pirouetted in the footsteps of once glorious days, edge meeting edge, bared fangs snapping at each other and the guttural sounds that escaped their chests no longer resembling anything like mortal tongues.

— and somewhere, far in the distance, the noises of the surrounding battle died down as their death by daylight quickly approached.

His Aether ran thin as he used it to cut and slice and whirl through the battlefield, and in one desperate attempt, he twirled around, joining together the two parts of his foil into a staff and raining fire upon his enemy, who cut through it as if his magic was nothing of note. The beast, then, was upon him, drawing a wide arc with his own sword that the Weapon of Light wouldn’t be able to parry or dodge, and all that was left for him to do was to coil into himself like a scared little child; he felt his bones break and grind into dust as the edge sliced through them and flesh alike, and from his throat, the roar of a great wyrm reverberated across the endless empty.

Through his pained tears, he looked up and for a second the almost maniacal _joy_ in Zenos’ face seemed to falter, taken aback by the sheer hatred that contorted his features.

“Oh, my friend…” Zenos whispered, and the pity in his voice filled him with rage.

That distraction was all the Weapon of Light needed, completely forgetting his magic focus in order to waste his Aether in one desperate last attack, to lunge his rapier forward with both hands, striking and _perfuring_ the animal’s chest as he broke rib, and lung, and heart, pushing ever forward until they were both fallen on the ground and the blood climbed up the monster’s trachea and throat, spilling from his mouth alongside bile and vomit, coming forward with an undignified noise and blemishing Zenos’ beautiful golden hair.

A wicked grin took hold of his face. Good; it was as it should be — but Zenos still extended a feeble hand in desperate friendship, cupping his face like a lover might do, and the feeling of calloused skin against his cheek made his fire burn out, leaving nothing behind but ice.

“Koh’a,” the man whispered softly, and the sound of his name sent a chill down his spine.

“Zenos,” the Weapon echoed as all his strength left him and he fell to the side with unceremonious noise, curling himself over as to stare at his opponent’s features, and when he blinked, he wondered how could he possibly look so _peaceful_ after being stricken down like an animal — for the features that now beheld him were not distorted in distress or joy, but the smile on his face was blissful and genuine.

No life left to live.

No fight left to fight.

“It’s over,” he stated in the hopes of a reaction, and a small chuckle escaped Zenos’ lips as he turned to admire the Weapon’s features, tracing them with the tip of his bloodied fingers — as if attempting to commit them to memory while his eyes became clouded and the Aether deep within their hearts stopped to swirl and churn, becoming nothing but a peaceful stillness.

“It is,” the prince agreed, closing his eyes and listening to his enemy’s heartbeat for a second too long. “Oh,” a little murmur escaped his lips. “I’m happy…”

What an odd man.

“This is the end,” he insisted, letting his eyes flutter closed as he bled out from a thousand wounds — those inflicted upon him by Zenos, by the empire, by Eorzea, by this world — and with a broken heart that cried out for this star. With a grimace, he couldn’t help but sigh at the unceremonious silence. “It’s goodbye.”

“There was no other way this could have ended,” the prince reminded him, echoing the words he said in the Royal Menagerie, so, so long ago — before the Weapon of Light became bitter and before he became cruel, when he asked the prince in front of him if he believed that the world was beautiful, for he could never accept him otherwise. “But you were too kind — and the world should have been kind in return. You deserved better…”

The Weapon bared his fangs, and it was almost enough to make him laugh. “No, no I didn’t” — for he wasn’t a saint or a savior, just another sinner.

But Zenos would not be persuaded.

“I’m glad I met you,” the prince admitted with his failing breath, smiling at his own words, and wasn’t it _blinding,_ like a child’s innocence, being enough to make the Weapon open his eyes and stare at his face, unbelieving. “You made me believe this world is beautiful.”

_Simple, genuine happiness._

— _Maybe at the very end, he could find it as well._

Their bodies and blades were broken and beyond mending, abandoned and cast aside to waste away as the Black Rose quickly enclosed them in order to strangle them and steal their breath away, and the dawn broke as the first rays of sunlight shone brightly alongside the Calamity of Light — where all was still, and for a long moment, they could simply be.

He laughed, joyfully, maniacally, bitterly at this world.

Maybe now, they were finally _free._

**Author's Note:**

> Like always, you can find me on twitter! https://twitter.com/21stcenturyher0


End file.
